


try a little tenderness

by watchtheleaves



Category: Boy Meets World
Genre: And they were soulmates, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Omg they were soulmates, Shawn Hunter Needs a Hug, and depression, angela/topanga you can’t see it but please know it’s there, because fuck canon for that, but he has cory ! so he’ll be okay, but then again, cory provides it, i dont know what this is, mr turner didn’t leave in this one, shawn has ptsd, uhh, when do i ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchtheleaves/pseuds/watchtheleaves
Summary: shawn has days of feeling invincible.
Relationships: Shawn Hunter/Cory Matthews
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	try a little tenderness

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing shawn and cory, like, ever. i also wrote this at five in the morning, so... yeah.
> 
> warnings for depression, implied eating disorder and sleep disorder.

Shawn has days where he’s invincible.

Cory, personally, finds those days to be his favorite. Days where Shawn will pick him up before school with a grin only a Hunter could replicate—something Shawn thinks of as both a blessing and a curse—and delightfully chat the entire way as they walk themselves to class. Those are the days where Shawn likes to talk about his dreams, which means his dreams have been nice and kind to him. Those are the days where Shawn greets Angela and Topanga with the biggest hugs, so strong it makes them lose their balance.

Those are the days in which Shawn looks at Cory with a look that’s reserved for Cory only, and it makes him feel warm and strange inside.

There is one lie and two truths in that statement: Shawn can feel at the very top of the world, somedays—truth. This isn’t something that happens routinely, and so it’s almost surprising when it does happen—truth.

Only in days like this does Cory feel warm and strange around Shawn—lie.

In an entirely selfish way, Cory’s favorite memory of these days is that of the time when Shawn arrived at his doorstep with the sun and a basket full of seashells in his grasp. Cory knew Shawn liked the beach, the memory of it, and so they sat in his backyard with two boxes of apple juice and let the sun slowly start to shine on them as Cory only listened to Shawn’s never-stopping rambling about the shells, their origins, their shapes, their colors.

They were late to school, that day, but it had been worth it—Cory would have skipped school and even maybe slit a dragon’s throat if that meant he could have kept listening to Shawn and the way his speech got higher and faster as his excitement only grew.

As much days of facing the world with his head held high as he gets in a year, Shawn has days of feeling at rock bottom.

Those days come unannounced and unsettlingly easy. Days where Shawn will flinch at the touch, will shy away from any affection, will try to isolate himself from anything and anyone that could in any timeline and lifetime cause him harm. These are the days where Shawn sits at his desk with his eyes drilling his empty notebook, days where he barely touches his food at lunch but doesn’t look up from it, either—he knows the rest of the people at the table is looking at him and worrying. Shawn’s days of defeat are days in which he’ll jump at the slightest of things and run away.

He has run away from his brother, his guardian, his friends. But Shawn has never truly run away from Cory Matthews.

(Because Shawn knows—and Cory does, too—that if it ever got to the point of running from everything, Shawn would run to him and not from him, and they would run together, and they would escape from life side by side, and then maybe life wouldn’t be so scary.)

Cory’s least favorite days are the most excruciating and exhausting to sit by: The days where Shawn is lost in the middle, scared, and wanting to throw the towel.

It was only seven in the afternoon on an autumn day of their third grade the first time it happened. Cory knew Shawn knew the way to his house by heart, and although he had never been to Shawn’s house, it was a nice thing to know. It was nice to know that his friend cared about him enough to walk to his house and back every time—including late nights, because Shawn never seemed to be driven to or from anywhere, and he always seemed to be alone.

Seven in the afternoon on an autumn day of their third grade, and Shawn knocked on the door. Strange, because he usually climbed through the window or found some other creative way inside.

Seven in the afternoon on an autumn day of their third grade, and Shawn was barely 49 inches tall and not just scrawny but notoriously thin inside his clothes, that looked dirty and old.

Seven in the afternoon on an autumn day of their third grade and Shawn knocked on Cory’s door, shaking even in the sun, and asked to spend the night, and maybe if he could also use his shower.

Cory had asked his mother the reasons many times through the years, but neither she nor his father thought him to be mature enough to understand that sometimes, blood isn’t enough to guarantee you the love of a parent.

It was Shawn who explained it to him.

“Sometimes, my dad doesn’t really like me,” his voice had been as weak as his words, his head laying on Cory’s lap with one hand on his shoulder. They were sitting on the ground between Eric’s bed and his, and Shawn was embarrassed to ask where he would sleep.

“Who could not like you, Shawn?” Had asked Cory, who was not as tall and not as thin and believed his best friend to be a superhero merely from how seen he felt around him—how unstoppable.

There hadn’t been a moment as heartbreaking and maddening as the one when Shawn started to cry.

In their years of friendship, Cory had never seen him so small, so scared. There was nothing he could do other than let him, and stay. Because Shawn hadn’t had enough people in his life who stayed.

It was through the years that followed that they found themselves in that same position: Sitting on the ground or a table or a bed, with Shawn’s head finding security and stability and quietness and stillness in Cory’s lap, and Cory’s hand never leaving his shoulder, his hair, his back. It was in an afternoon of the summer before fifth grade, and the week before Christmas on their sixth grade, and many times after Shawn was left on his own near the end of their seventh grade.

It continued when Shawn felt overwhelmed in his new home throughout the eighth grade, or when the nightmares got worse and Cory spent every night of a week of summer break before tenth grade at Mr. Turner’s, sleeping by his side and never leaving him until he felt ready.

Shawn had days of feeling everything around him as pure and lovely and beautiful and amazing. He had days in which he loved the world and the world loved him back.

Shawn had days of feeling terrified of the future, the past, everything around him.

Shawn had days of feeling hopeless, of losing his sleep, his appetite, his mind.

In each and every single one of those days, Shawn would look at Cory with those eyes that were saved for Cory only, and Cory would be there for Shawn in that way that was so private and special that it could only be theirs. In each and every single one of those days, Cory felt warm and strange around Shawn, and Shawn felt safe and almost loved around Cory.

Their dynamic was their own. Life only grew bigger and scarier as the world expanded under their feet. But Shawn would always have a place next to Cory—he couldn’t ever truly be lost, that way.

Shawn couldn’t really feel lost, because Cory would always find him to bring him home.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m @newsieslive on twitter if you wanna watch me rant about how canon did them dirty! i also appreciate comments, like, a lot.
> 
> drink water, wear a mask and stay home!


End file.
